


Choose

by MWolfe13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mummy Series
Genre: Angst, Betrothal Practices, F/M, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-11 08:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MWolfe13/pseuds/MWolfe13
Summary: She was the Brightest Witch of her Age, War Hero, One-Third of the Golden Trio. She was the legacy of a proud Egyptian society. She was Medjai. But before all that, she was his betrothed. And she didn’t want to be… right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My second Mummy/Harry Potter Crossover since my Muse hates me. Other warnings will be added as necessary. 
> 
> Fair warning, I have no working knowledge of most of Egyptian/Mummy concepts in this story. I have googled my way through this. Honestly, guys, this was supposed to be a Betrothal story that has gotten out of control. Posting here first since I literally just started a Mummy/HP crossover on FF, but the muse for both stories is too strong right now. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or kudos, they mean the world!

**Chapter 1**

Hermione was born during a desert storm, her mother cursing Merlin and Allah both. The Muggleborn woman had not wanted a child, but her guilty conscious had led her to telling the babe’s father of her existence. He’d extracted a promise from her not to get rid of the child, promising to take it when it was born. She had agreed wholeheartedly. After all she’d been through, she felt too young and traumatized to properly care for anyone but herself.

What she hadn’t expected was for magic not her own to go haywire as soon as the girl was placed in her arms. The midwives looked around in awe and terror as objects flew around the tent, the girl’s father staring down at the babe in surprise. The new mother looked down at the newborn trying to root at her breast, and knew she couldn’t abandon her. The girl was most definitely a witch.

“You cannot forsake her,” the girl’s father spoke. “She is like you.”

“No,” she agreed. “I am her mother. She will be a powerful Witch. Hermione is her name.”

His lips twisted at the foreign name, but nodded in acceptance. “Hermione Nassar.”

“Granger,” she corrected. “People like us… It is hard to gain acceptance when we’re unknown. She’ll be Hermione Nassar Granger.”

It took two years for Hermione’s mother to grow tired of the desert life, living in tents and traveling from place to place. She wanted to put down roots, away from the Medjai that would only ever respect her as the mother to one of their own.

Even then, they were wary of her and her daughter. Because of their magic.

Aten, Hermione’s father, wouldn’t let her leave with their daughter. It was agreed she would go with her mother one week of every month. It had been his last attempt to make her stay, but she’d agreed to the weak compromise. Hermione cried and cried when each day passed that her mother wasn’t there to put her to bed, or play with her in the mornings. It broke her father’s heart, but eventually the Chieftain's wife took the little girl under her wing. They had a single daughter the same age as Hermione, their other child a son 4 years older.

Safiya and Hermione grew into the best of friends, the other girl the only villager not put off by her friends display’s of magic. They often tagged along during the adventures her brother Ardeth had with his friends. Hermione would leave each month for a week to be with her mother and Safiya would bemoan her boredom without her best friend to play with. Her brother would abandon his playmates to stay by her side during those times, acting the big brother and cheering her up until Hermione came back.

When they turned 7 years old, their training to become Medjai started. There weren’t many women in the ranks of the sacred warriors, females given the choice if they wanted to take the oaths or become Healers and Homemakers. It was clear within a year that Safiya would not take the oaths. She did not like fighting, choosing to clean her brother’s scrapes and bruises when he’d come back from his own training. Hermione, on the other hand, took to the blade like she was born with the skill. She practiced with a methodical approach that allowed her to take down her opponent with well placed planning and foresight. 

She was placed in the next age group and was knocked on her bum by the slightly older children. It was the first time she’d lost her temper in a bout of accidental magic. Amasis lost all his hair, and Hermione was made to do extra chores for a month. 

Ardeth took his oaths at 12 years old. It was a sacred ceremony that usually only family was invited to, but Hermione was present for his. They were friends because of Safiya, not ones to play on their own if given the choice. It became clear why she was included on Hermione’s eight birthday when both father’s sat their children down, and explained that the Elder’s had decided they would marry as adults. Ardeth was of age to go through a betrothal ceremony, and so they would do it within the month. Both children made disgusted faces at each other, but didn’t protest. It was normal for the Elder’s of the tribes to pick couples. It was supposed to be quite the honor when they found your match.

The small part that was Hermione’s mother's side wanted to deny the match, but she respected her father too much to go against his word.

Before the year was out, Hermione sported a golden cuff bracelet that signified her future marriage. Ardeth’s was made out of leather that he wore over the wrist that held his newly inked Medjai tattoo. Everyone looked at them differently, eager to watch their interactions with one another once the news was made public. Some were not pleased that their future Chieftain was marrying a Witch, but no one could deny that she was a powerful warrior in the making. Many saw her magic as a gift that would aid in their sacred duty in the years to come.

Hermione turned 11 and her mother presented her with her Hogwarts letter. She’d pulled some strings with her old Professor to have Hermione accepted into the magic school on the other side of the world. She would be starting right before she turned twelve, in the next fall term. Hermione was both scared and excited. For years, it had been her and her mother with magic. She’d never met other children like her in that regard. Her father was furious, but her mother wouldn’t budge on the matter. Safiya cried when she learned Hermione would be gone for months at a time, but Hermione promised to come home for every holiday. Her Chief was worried about her training, making Hermione vow to practice her exercises anytime she could.

Her branding ceremony was held a few days before Hermione left, weeks before her birthday. It was a break in tradition, but no one wanted the girl to wait until she was home for winter break. The Chieftain's family was there along with her father, and the Elder’s. Ardeth, now a man of 15, was ordered back for the rite. They greeted each other warmly, but their interactions held a certain stiffness. Only Safiya knew that Ardeth had berated Hermione for choosing to attend this other school instead of staying with their people.

Hermione was not one to take criticism well.

Their tribe saw her off when her mother came to collect her, her father showing his support openly after being angry about the decision for so long. She promised to write, disappearing with her mother and not noticing the lone gangly rider that watched from afar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was the Brightest Witch of her Age, War Hero, One-Third of the Golden Trio. She was the legacy of a proud Egyptian society. She was Medjai. But before all that, she was his betrothed. And she didn’t want to be… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to The Mummy franchise. I've just combined their respective sandboxes and jumped in.
> 
> "italic writing" means they are speaking Medjai language which is a mix up of Ancient Egyptian, Arabic, and other dialects in the region.
> 
> Leave a comment or a kudos! I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 2: Year 1**

Hermione had been so used to not having friends since she’d arrived that she hadn’t realized her new comrades might seek her out. She had been practicing her blade techniques as her Chieftain had ordered. It helped center her mind, letting the mystery of the monster dog float to the recesses of her mind for a bit. She was dressed in her training clothes; thin black pants with a slitted skirt to allow free movement for women and a black shirt. Her betrothal bracelet was placed over her bicep, the band too big for her tiny wrist. Her Medjai tattoo was in full view, typically obstructed by her robes. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid as her future mother had taught her. 

The outfit was the only clothes from home her mother had allowed her to bring, taking her on an exhausting shopping trip for proper British clothing before the term started. It helped Hermione when she was homesick, letting her pour cheerful musings into her letters to her father and Safiya. She’d written an obligatory letter to Ardeth, but he hadn’t answered her.

She was thinking of the stupid judging man when Harry and Ron discovered her.

“Whoa! What a neat blade!”

Hermione whirled around, bringing her sword to the tip of Ron’s chin on instinct. He gulped, staring at her with wide eyes. Chagrined, Hermione brought the weapon to her side. “I’m so sorry, Ron. You startled me.”

Harry lifted a brow in amazement. “You sure know how to use it.”

She shrugged, a little pleased by their praise. “I’m not an expert, but one day. Did you two need something?”

Ron snapped out of his daze. “Wait, why are you practicing with a sword? I didn’t know there was a Muggle fighting class at Hogwarts.”

“It’s a tradition in my family,” Hermione allowed. 

They dropped it easily enough, becoming excited again when they remembered their reason for finding her. “Harry has Quidditch practice in a bit,” Ron told her. “Do you want to come watch?”

Hermione was rather dubious about flying in general, but in the spirit of making friends and keeping them, she agreed.

ABHNG***ABHNG

Safiya was the first to greet her when Hermione arrived back home for winter break. The slender girl jumped into Hermione’s arms, knocking them both down onto the ground. Their parents laughed good-naturedly, welcoming the missing member of their family back after months of being away. Hermione noted Ardeth was nowhere to be seen.

**“** _ I missed you, _ **”** Safiya cried out.  _ “You cannot leave again, Hermione. I will die of boredom before you come home again. Letters are not enough.” _

_“I’m sorry,”_ Hermione placated with a small grin. _“I promise to write more if that will make you feel better.”_

Hermione entertained her family with tales of her time at Hogwarts, leaving out their adventures outside normal hours. She didn’t think her father of Chief would be very pleased with her encounter with the three-headed dog. She gushed about her two friends, missing the way her father’s brows rose at the mention of the boys. He shared a look with his friend and leader, the man grimacing slightly at her warm tone in regards to the two boys. He let her leave back to the tent she shared with her father after informing her that there would be a feast to celebrate her brief return.

It was later during that feast that Hermione wandered off on her own, relishing in being able to wear her normal clothing again. She’d missed the cooling winds of the desert, the heat of her homeland. Scotland was the opposite of Egypt in that regard, the ground turning white well before winter officially set in. It had not been a total shock, Hermione having gotten a taste of the harsh weather during her monthly trips to see her mother. She thought of the woman now, remembering the offer to join her for her holiday celebrations. Hermione had declined, but she’d been sorely tempted.

_ “That does not look like a girl who is happy to be home.” _

Hermione whirled around, spotting the boy coming up behind her. He was dressed in his patrol robes; cloth wrinkled against his skin. He must have just gotten back in. “Ardeth,” she greeted.

He was looking at her in disapproval.  _ “Did you even hear me arrive? You must be slacking in your training if you cannot hear me before I come upon you. I was not trying to be stealthy.” _

She sighed in aggravation, not wishing to argue with him again so soon after her arrival. They would be expected to spend some time together during her time back home. She decided to let his comments go, and be polite.  _ “How are you? I hear from Safiya that you are making quite a name for yourself in the patrol parties.” _

_ “Amasis joined my patrol. He talks too much.” _

Hermione snorted, the sound harsh against the quiet night. The bald haired boy chatted like there was no tomorrow, often trying to taunt his opponents in the training field. It had been his never-ending voice that had distracted her long enough to lose when she’d accidentally cursed him bald.

_ “I have something for you.” _

She turned, surprise on her face.  _ “Really?” _

Ardeth took her hand into his, starting to walk back to the lights of the fires.  _ “Come with me.” _

She didn’t have a choice, but Hermione didn’t say anything as he pulled her along the backs of the houses. She noticed his hands were harder than when he’d last touched her, a brief hug at her branding ceremony. She wondered if he’d been called to fight already. The creature wouldn’t have risen without her immediately knowing about it, but there were other tribes out there that considered the Medjai another faction of people they could fight with when it suited them. 

He led her to his family’s massive tent, opening the flap and letting her go ahead of him. She’d been here plenty of times, Safiya’s mother tending to Hermione when her mother went back to England. Her best friend’s section was right next to Ardeth’s. He walked to the area reserved for entertaining guests, two wooden posts situated in the corner. 

Hermione saw the two falcons, smiling and jogging the rest of the way to meet them first.  _ “Beautiful.” _ The falcons leaned against her fingers when she ran them over their heads.  _ “Are these your new messenger birds?” _

_ “Horus is mine.” _ Ardeth smiled a little when the bird heard his name and switched his attention to him.  _ “I’ve named the other Isis. I think she would be a good fit for you.” _

Hermione’s smile was quick, eyes bright as she looked up at him.  _ “Truly? She is mine?” _

Ardeth nodded, keeping his attention on the birds.  _ “Safiya has done nothing but try and talk sense into me since you’ve been gone. I was wrong to accuse you of betraying the Medjai. You have every right to explore the other half of your birthright.” _

Of course, it had been his sister that was able to get through to him. She’d always had Ardeth wrapped around her finger. She’d have to thank her when they were alone.  _ “Thank you, Ardeth.” _ Hermione let the subject go, knowing his apology was all he was going to discuss on the topic.  _ “Isis, huh? I suppose you think it is fitting.” _

_ “Very.” _

ABHNG***ABHNG

_ Safiya, _

_ How are things? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to write much in the last few weeks. The term has been crazy with final exam preparation. Don’t tell Baba, but my friends and I got into some trouble a few weeks back. I told you about the Troll, but can you believe Dragons are real as well? Hagrid, the half Giant I described to you, hatched a Dragon egg on the grounds. It is illegal to own them, so we devised a way to send the baby to one of Ron’s brothers. He is an actual Dragon Tamer, I’m told. Unfortunately, that foul boy I mentioned in one of my previous letters told on us, and we were caught after curfew. We were given detention in the very forest I told you was forbidden and dangerous.  _

_ Enough of my adventures. How are your Healer’s lessons going? Or have they not allowed you to start? I so wish you were allowed to attend Hogwarts with me. The medical wing is fascinating. I tried to ask questions for you, but Madam Pomfrey just chased me away. I think she thought I was trying to distract her from something else. I’ve no idea why, though. _

_ How is your brother? We have started communicating more through Isis and Horus, but his letters are inconsistent and short. I feel I have to ask after him. Some of the old families here practice arranged marriages as well. I thought I could bond with some of the girls by mentioning that common thing between our worlds, but they were still put off by my company, choosing to sit elsewhere or leave altogether. It makes no difference to me now. I find myself comfortable with the friends I have, like a balance has been struck. _

_ Give everyone my love. The term is almost done, so I will see you all soon. _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Hermione _

Hermione sent the letter off with Isis, instructing her to return after a couple of days so she would not tax herself coming straight back. It had taken some pleading on her part to allow the falcon to remain at the school, but Professor Dumbledore had allowed it after some discussion. It was another piece of home that Hermione was happy to have with her at Hogwarts. She felt guilty for not telling Safiya of the other things that had happened, but she didn’t want to make her situation sound too dangerous or her best friend would go to her father. Safiya was a gentler soul, caring to the point of emotional turmoil when something was going on with someone she cared for. 

She decided to study for a couple of hours before dinner and was headed to her dorm to grab her book bag when Harry and Ron raced up to her. She took in their flushed faces from running. “What happened?”

“It’s Professor Snape,” Harry gasped out. “He’s after the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

By the end of the night, Hermione was the only one not forced to the hospital wing. She was exhausted, emotionally as well as physically, but the boys had been the one to be hurt. Harry had encountered a cursed form of You-Know-Who himself. It made her shudder when she realized a creature like him had existed in the school with them all year. 

In that moment, watching Ron struck down by a magical chess piece, she’d wished to be home with her Baba and Safiya. Even Ardeth would have been welcome at that moment. But she knew she could not tell either of them what had happened. They already wished she come home. This would give her Baba cause to truly fight her mother in training her magic.

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was the Brightest Witch of her Age, War Hero, One-Third of the Golden Trio. She was the legacy of a proud Egyptian society. She was Medjai. But before all that, she was his betrothed. And she didn’t want to be… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "italic writing" means they are speaking Medjai language which is a mix up of Ancient Egyptian, Arabic, and other dialects in the region.
> 
> Leave a comment or a kudos! I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 3: Year 2**

_ “And who is that you keep sending letters to?” _

Hermione jumped and turned from watching Isis to face Safiya. The girl watched her with a pointed look. Hermione flushed, though she did not know why. She was not doing anything wrong. _ “Harry. He hasn’t answered a single letter the entire break. Even Ron has written back once or twice.” _

Safiya shrugged.  _ “Maybe he is busy. Don’t those foreigners take family trips when not in school?” _

Hermione pursed her lips.  _ “I got the impression his family life isn’t that great. I doubt they go on vacations like you are describing.”  _ She shook off the worry, sure Harry had just forgotten to write. She ignored the reminder in the back of her head that told her Ron had complained about his lack of correspondence as well.  _ “Are you excited for next week?” _

Safiya forgot about Harry immediately, hands clasped excitedly.  _ “Yes! I cannot believe I get to see your… What was it called?” _

“Diagon Alley,” she supplied with a smile.

_ “Yes, that. Your Baba is so nice, consenting to take me when you go. Do you think we’ll meet any cool people?” _

Hermione chuckled,  _ “I am sure Harry will be there. He’s the only famous person I know. We have to go to Gringotts and do the money exchange, so you will get to see the Goblin’s.” _

Safiya waved a hand in dismissal.  _ “What do I care for this boy? He seems to have replaced me as your best friend. I think I hate him.” _

Hermione’s eyes widened at the statement. Safiya’s did as well, her lower lip trembling as she took a step back. Hermione made to walk to her, but her friend burst into tears and fled from their spot. She passed her brother as he was passing by with his horse. Ardeth looked at Safiya’s fleeing form in concern, eyes hardening when they landed on Hermione. He started stomping towards her, but she only had eyes for her best friend, running in the same direction she’d gone and calling her name.

She found her ten minutes later, laying on the ground and crying loudly. Hermione rushed to her, dropping to her knees and pulling Safiya into her arms.  _ “Please talk to me.” _ She was close to tears herself.  _ “Please. Tell me what is wrong.” _

_ “My parents wish to betroth me to Aharon.” _ Safiya wrapped her arms around Hermione, hugging her tightly. _ “I heard them discussing it when they thought I was asleep. His father has contacted mine to arrange it.” _

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.  _ “Aharon from the tribe to the west? That stupid boy?” _

Safiya nodded miserably.  _ “I needed you here. I heard them and I went to your tent, but then I remembered you were at your new school with your new friends having adventures. I am stuck here, about to be given to Aharon while you talk nonstop about this Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.” _

_ “I’m sorry, Safiya.” _ Hermione felt terrible.  _ “I have been a bad friend. Do you forgive me? I promise I will write constantly, and I will cease talking about the boys when I am with you.” _

Safiya looked up from Hermione’s chest, eyes red from tears.  _ “Do you give your word? You must come home for every break, and write to me all the time! Aharon will be making frequent trips here. I don’t want to face him alone more than necessary.”  _

_ “I swear,”  _ Hermione vowed. Then she frowned.  _ “I can’t believe your father is considering Aharon. He is an arrogant boy who believes he’s Allah’s gift to man for being a Chieftain's son.” _

Safiya was in complete agreement.  _ “Yes, and I would rather die fighting the creature than marry him! I do not want to be betrothed right now. I am too young.” _

Hermione gave her an incredulous look.  _ “I was betrothed to your brother when I was eight years old. No one considered me too young then. And I am not a Chieftain’s daughter!” _

Safiya rolled her eyes, turning her body so that she was using Hermione’s shoulder as a pillow for her head.  _ “Unlike Aharon, my brother is a good man. Mama and Baba raised him well.” _

Hermione snorted but said nothing to contradict the girl. She knew Ardeth was a good man; no one could deny that. But like her, he was reluctant to wed her. Maybe it wasn’t her in particular. Perhaps he didn’t want to be married at all, and she had the unfortunate position as his intended. It mattered little right now. She still had years before they would have to worry about it.

ABHNG***ABHNG

“Harry!”

“Mione!”

Hermione left her groups side, running the few feet separating her from Harry and Hagrid. She engulfed him in a hug meant to suffocate, his arms folding around her just as tightly. It had taken her the entire spring term to get him used to the way she showed affection. It felt good that a single summer hadn’t undone the progress she’d made with him.

She released him, holding him at arm’s length. “What in the world happened to your glasses? Oh, and you’re so dirty!” She shook her head, pulling her wand out and waving it in the direction of the circular frames. “Oculus Reparo!”

Harry flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, Mione.” He looked behind her. “Hello…”

Hermione blushed, realizing she had forgotten Saifya and her father instantly. Safiya was looking distinctly unhappy while her father watched Harry with slight interest. She’d talked about him constantly after all. Her eyes strayed to the figure just behind Safiya, the dark brows raised as he took in the interaction with her other best friend. She hadn’t wanted to bring Ardeth with them, but his mother had insisted, her father too pleased to have someone else to watch his back in Diagon Alley. They would have normally stood out with their clothing, but the warrior-built Medjai attracted attention without effort. 

She grabbed Harry’s hand, ignoring her father’s look of disapproval, and walking with him to her group. “Baba, Ardeth, Safiya, this is Harry. Harry, this is my father and best friend, and… her brother.”

Harry’s grin was quick but cautious under the silence. “Mione’s told me a lot about you, Safiya. It’s great to meet you.” 

Safiya’s frown faltered, her voice hesitant as she spoke, “Really?”

“Sure. She doesn’t talk much about your village, but when she does, you’re always featured in the stories.” He scanned her clothes, looking at Hermione’s similar attire. “Wow, Mione, you look so different out of your normal wear. Is this what girls wear in Egypt?”

“Why do you call her Mione?” Safiya asked before Hermione would answer him. “Her name is Hermione.”

He seemed to think about it for a moment before shrugging. “I have no idea, actually. It just started happening one day. Hermione is sort of a mouthful.” He shot her a shy grin.

“Look, mum! It’s Harry and Mione!”

“Ron!” Harry was gone in a flash, rushing over to the redheaded family that was coming up to Flourish and Blotts.

_ “His eyes were so sad,” _ Safiya commented.

Hermione nodded without questioning how she had seen when Harry had been so quick to smile and talk. Safiya was very empathic, her own type of magic. _ “He doesn’t have a happy home.” _

_ “You introduced Ardeth as Safiya’s brother.” _

Hermione hunched at her father’s voice, laced with disapproval. She looked at the man in question to find he was staring off in the distance. She shrugged.  _ “I haven’t mentioned our betrothal to my friends, Baba. Only certain families still practice arranged marriages here. They are not among them.” _

_ “It is a slight against your future husband.” _

Her cheeks burned at his words, shame filling her at the evident disappointment. Ardeth placed a hand on Aten’s shoulder, speaking lowly,  _ “Calm yourself, Aten. I am not angry.” _

Safiya shifted uncomfortably, seeking something to break the growing tension between father and daughter.  _ “So they have given you a nickname. That is not fair. I have known you longer. I want to give you a nickname.” _

Hermione sighed softly, having already thought this would happen.  _ “What would you call me? There is nothing wrong with my given name.” _

_ “It is a mouthful.”  _ She rolled her eyes because Saifya was clearly copying Harry’s attempt at teasing.  _ “I think your name will be Mia. By the time you come home at the end of the year, I will have the entire tribe using it.” _

ABHNG***ABHNG

She had hoped for a quiet year. She would ace all her classes, write to Safiya, watch Harry nearly kill himself in Quidditch, and then return home for winter break. 

Then Mrs. Norris was petrified. Colin Creevey followed not long after and then Justin Finch-Fletchy. She learned about the horrible monster left behind by Salazar Slytherin, the targets Witches and Wizards with ‘impure’ blood. Harry was talking to snakes, making everyone believe he was Slytherin’s heir. They’d tried using Polyjuice Potion to catch the real Heir of Slytherin, which led to Hermione spending a couple of weeks in the hospital wing as a cat creature. 

She was ready for a break. Aharon was set to arrive around the same time as Hermione, and she relished in making the boy uncomfortable during their shared time. Maybe then he would believe Safiya was not worth it, and ask his father to withdraw his marriage offer.

She was in the library doing some more research into the beast haunting the castle. Harry had talked about his adventure in the diary, a thought that horrified Hermione, and was convinced the monster was a spider. She wasn’t so sure. There were no species of spider she’d read about that petrified their victims, much less leave them to be found instead of eating them. But the spider theory had given her an idea, a thought surfacing in the back of her mind on a book of rare beasts she’d read last year.

When she found the passage she was looking for, everything clicked into place.

The monster wasn’t a spider at all.

She thought about the condition the bodies had been found in. Mrs. Norris had been found near Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, the floors flooded from the ghosts tantrum. Colin Creevey had been taking pictures. And Justin… Nearly Headless Nick had been with him. 

None of them had made direct contact with the monster. That was why they weren’t dead. This thing killed with its gaze, but petrified when seen through a reflection.

She needed to get this to the Professors.

Hermione tore the page from the book, only feeling slightly guilty over damaging the text. She trusted her instincts and took out the shiny dagger her father had made her promise to wear on her person at all times. She didn’t know if much damage could be done with a blade so small, but she was trained to try until she could try no more. She raced past the shelves, intending to find the closest Professor.

Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw Prefect, stopped her as soon as she reached the hall outside the library. “Granger? What in the world are you doing with that sword?” She had a compact mirror in hand, her hands at her bangs.

A Prefect. Yes. “We need to get to Professor McGonagall, Penelope. I know what the creature is.”

They heard the hissing in the next instant. Penelope’s eyes widened in fear. Hermione brought her blade up to her face, a yellowish hue glinting in the shiny metal. 

They found the girls shortly after, the staff knowing they would have to close the school down at the rate the monster was attacking.

ABHNG***ABHNG

Hermione didn’t make it home during her break.

Ardeth had the urge to challenge her to a sparring match after seeing the look of devastation on Safiya’s face. The girl had promised to come home. Not only had she not done that, but she’d also stopped writing. They were used to letters once a week, even Ardeth received them. Now two weeks had passed with no word. Aharon was here to spend time with his sister, and Hermione had promised to be here for it.

The fact that she did not come home had the village in an uproar. Ardeth could understand why. She was to be his wife, and he would be Chieftain one day. Hermione was important whether Ardeth wanted her to be or not. Her father was concerned; his parents calm on the outside for the sake of their friend. Word had been sent to Hermione’s mother, but Ardeth knew Aten was ready to travel all the way to England and drag her back himself.

Ardeth thought she was rebelling against her fate the only way she could. Aten had planned to take her on a patrolling mission, and after a successful week she would have received the Arabic tattoo that labeled her Medjai on the back of her neck, her requested position. Ardeth’s was on his forehead. He was not ashamed of the people he came from. She gave all her energy to training and preparation for being a Medjai, but Ardeth could not shake the thought that she valued her life of magic more.

_ “Something is wrong.” _

Safiya’s words broke the strained silence in his families tent, Aten stopping his pacing to glance at her.  _ “Child-” _

_ “No,” _ she interrupted, shocking everyone. His sister had never disrespected an adult in that way.  _ “Mia promised she’d come home and write every week. My best friend does not break her promises. Something has happened.” _

His father nodded, standing up from his position near his wife to clasp a hand on Aten’s shoulder.  _ “My daughter speaks the truth, Aten. She knows the significance of promises made. There is an explanation for her absence.” _

The letter sent to them from Hermione’s mother left the answers vague, frustrating, and worrying the village all at once. Hermione had been in an accident at school, and the Headmaster had advised against her traveling anywhere while she recovered. It did not answer why the girl did not contact them herself, or what type of accident it was. Unfortunately, besides storming Hogwarts, there was nothing they could do.

ABHNG***ABHNG

Hermione sat with Ron in the Headmaster’s office. Her friend was munching away on the small cakes waiting for them, but Hermione was still gaining her appetite back. A side effect of the potion used to revive her, she was told. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she'd been petrified for months. Oh, she’d known something was wrong. Being petrified had not taken away her hearing, but she could not speak or blink. Somehow she had lived without drawing breath into her lungs, and with no nourishment.

The experience had been truly terrifying. And she couldn’t tell anyone.

This had been explained to her when she’d come back to her normal state in the hospital wing. The parents of the affected victims of the Basilisk had been told there had been an incident in class that caused an extended stay in the infirmary. She supposed magical parents accepted this easily; her own mother hadn’t been by to see her at all. She knew, though, that her father would be hard to convince. The excuse better be good for Aten’s daughter to break her promises.

She’d broken her promise to Safiya.

She knew it was not her fault, but her heart did not listen to her. Safiya had dreaded Aharon visiting, Hermione’s timely visit the only thing that cheered her up. Her best friend must hate her.

Headmaster Dumbledore walked into his office, his eyes twinkling as he observed them. He sat down behind his desk, watching Hermione curled up on her seat. “You are not hungry, Miss Granger?”

She shrugged, deciding to sit up now that a Professor was in the room. “My appetite comes and goes. It had decided to leave for now.”

Dumbledore nodded before clearing his throat. This got Ron’s attention, who had been content to ignore everyone for that moment. “You must be curious as to why I’ve summoned you.”

“It has to do with Harry,” Hermione deduced. After all, what else could it be? There were very few things in common between her and Ron, but Harry was the biggest one.

“Indeed, Miss Granger. I would award house points, but the cup has already been awarded.” He turned those twinkling eyes on her. “You are a very bright Witch. I don’t think it will surprise you that Mister Potter is in grave danger.”

“Danger?” Ron swallowed the rest of his food harshly. “He killed the Basilisk and that thing possessing my sister. How else is he in danger?”

Headmaster Dumbledore fiddled with a box on his desk. “In your first year, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named inhabited a Professor without our knowledge, his intent to kill young Mister Potter, among other things. This year, he has struck again.”

“Sure but Harry killed him, three times now!”

“Of course, Mister Weasley,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I fear he is not truly dead, and he will continue to target your friend until he succeeds in killing him.”

Ron was asking how You-Know-Who could possibly be alive after being killed three times, but Hermione’s stomach churned. She belonged to an ancient society that protected ancient secrets long forgotten. She knew of legends and accounts passed down through the years by her ancestors. There were ways.

She interrupted Ron’s chatter, staring Professor Dumbledore in the eyes. “Why are you telling us this? We’re students, not Auror’s.”

He smiled gently. “You are Mister Potter’s best friends. When he is not with his blood family, he is with you two. It is safe to say that when the next danger arises, you will be by his side.”

Ron sent them both a confused look. “Of course we would, Professor. We’d never abandon him.”

Hermione sighed, slumping down in her seat. “He knows that, Ronald. It is why he’s called us in here. He wants us to protect Harry.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Intelligent, indeed. Yes, Miss Granger, I have called you two here to secure your word in Mister Potter’s protection.” The way he phrased it brought Hermione to attention. “I fear he will only be in more danger as time goes on. I will do everything in my power to stop it, of course, but Mister Potter’s safety is my utmost concern. If you do accept the position as his guardians, I will place you two under a geas. It protects you legally should anything happen.”

Hermione did not understand what geas meant, but Ron did. He paled. “You really think that’s necessary, Professor? A vow like that is legally binding. Mum and Dad would have my hide for doing something like that.”

“That is why no one else can know.”

Hermione held up a hand. “What is a geas?”

Ron explained, “A geas is a type of magical vow, sort of like an unbreakable, that binds us to the promise we make. Only the original caster or the person we’re bound to can undo it.” He frowned. “It’s serious stuff.”

“It’s all for Mister Potter’s protection,” Dumbledore insisted. “If too many people know, the element of surprise goes away. No one would suspect a pair of children to be in charge of their friend's protection.”

Her eyes strayed to the tattoo partially hidden under her school robes. “Will this override any other vows and oaths we’ve made?”

“Are they magical oaths?”

That was answer enough. She shook her head, heart heavy. “No, but-”

“Then there is nothing to worry about.” His voice gentled. “I know you have some obligations to your country, Miss Granger, though I have no been made aware of the specifics. If you are allowed back here every year, I doubt they’ll need you right now.”

Still, she hesitated. She had promised to put the Medjai before anything and anyone else. Should the need arise, she was to abandon all other obligations and perform her duty. There were too many unknowns in this. It didn’t feel right. She wanted to protect her friend, but…

Ron laid a hand on her arm, his gaze uncharacteristically solemn. “It’s for Harry, Mione. I’m in.”

That was that. Casting aside her doubts, she embraced the feeling rising up in her at Ron’s words. It was for Harry.

The vow was performed, Hermione and Ron clasping hands as Dumbledore weaved a complicated pattern over them. She repeated the words he spoke, a part of her hissing at promising to put Harry above all else. She squashed it, knowing there could be no hesitation on her part or the oath would not work. An unfamiliar crest glowed briefly on the wrist not holding her Medjai tattoo before sinking into her skin and disappearing. She felt the magic simmering underneath her own, taking hold of her power and entangling with it.

It was done.

Professor Dumbledore dismissed Ron after that, asking Hermione to stay and reminding them both that no one could know about what they’d just done. Hermione rubbed her Medjai tattoo beneath the sleeve of her school shirt. No one would understand.

“At the beginning of the year, you had a meeting with Professor McGonagall regarding your school schedule going forward. You want to take every subject you can.”

Her eyes shot up to the Headmaster. “Yes, I understand it is impossible, but I would like to try. I do quite well with reading materials, so I could switch the classes I go to-”

He held up a hand to stop her. “I have spoken to the Ministry. They have granted my request to lend you a Time-Turner.”

She almost jumped out of her seat. “A Time Turner? I’ve read they’re semi-illegal, Sir.”

“They are. You will typically find them in the hands of the Ministry. The Department of Mysteries has consented to lend you one after taking a look at your academic scores.” Headmaster Dumbledore’s lips pulled up in amusement. “I think they believe they can recruit you straight out of Hogwarts if they get on your good side now.” He handed her a wooden box. “There a few rules about its usage I must go over with you, but you are a smart girl. I think I can entrust this with you now.”

Hermione opened the lid, marveling at the wonder nestled in silk fabric. The Time-Turner was an ornate hourglass with a golden chain attached. Tiny runes were inscribed along the bands around the glass, but Hermione did not know what they meant. The sand was resting in both sections. Hermione had read they were the Sands of Time. Hermione did not know much about them, but that they were infused with strong magic, strong enough to send someone back through time. 

She looked up to find Professor Dumbledore watching her. “Thank you for the opportunity. I understand how big it is that the Ministry would entrust something like this to a student. I promise I won’t let Hogwarts down.”

“I know you won’t,” he agreed. “I want you to familiarize yourself with its magic before the next term starts.”

Her brows furrowed. “But Sir... Magic is forbidden for students to use outside of school.”

He nodded. “That is the rule, but I’ll let you in on a secret the adults pretend doesn’t exist.” He leaned closer. “The Ministry can only track magic usage when it is performed in Muggle heavy areas. They also do not have the authority to track magic activity in another country.”

“I see.” And she did see. “Are you going to tell Ron the same thing?”

His eyes were twinkling again. “I heard the rumor that Arthur Weasley won a contest and is using his prize to take his family on vacation to Egypt to see the oldest. Maybe you two will meet up in Cairo’s wizarding district.” 

ABHNG***ABHNG

Aten was waiting for her when she came out of Cairo’s Ministry building. He grabbed her into a hug, Hermione returning the squeeze and trying not to cry.  _ “Baba, it is good to see you.” _

He pulled back to look at her, running his eyes down her body and back up to ensure she was not hurt.  _ “It is good to see you too. We missed you for your break.”  _ There was a question.

She gave him a reassuring smile, her mouth forming the practiced lie she’d drummed into her head the entire train ride back to England.  _ “There was an incident in my potions class. Two volatile liquids ended up mixing and formed a gas cloud that put us under a sleeping curse. It took a while for our potions teacher to make the remedy.” _

His eyebrows rose in astonishment.  _ “I see. And they could not tell this to your mother so that she would inform us? The tribe is worried about you, and Safiya cried many tears for your safety.” _

Hermione sighed, trying not to let the guilt eat at her.  _ “I apologize, Baba. These magical families… Hogwarts tells them something happened, and as long as their children live, they do not question the teachers. I am told Mama did not visit me once, and she was not very concerned when she dropped me off at the Ministry in London.” _

Aten’s fists clenched, muttering something under his breath. Hermione was sure it was about her mother, but he would not repeat it in front of her should she ask. He’d always been like that. She knew he was only polite with her mum for her sake; the entire tribe was. She had the honor of being the woman who birthed Hermione, but that was it. Hermione was not blind that her mother was not as invested in her life as she should be. It did not hurt as one would think it would. Safiya’s mum had filled the void before Hermione could acknowledge it existed.

She changed the subject.  _ “How was Aharon’s visit? Has he changed his mind on marrying Safiya?” _

Aten grimaced and then sighed, raising his eyes to the sky.  _ “Aharon left in the middle of his visit, but I do not know if he’s withdrawn his suit. He said something...unfavorable about you in front of Ardeth and your betrothed punched him in the face.” _

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. She couldn’t believe Ardeth had really done that. Then she frowned. “ _ What could he have said to get that type of reaction? Ardeth is just as levelheaded as his father.”  _

Her father shrugged.  _ “I ask this same question, but Ardeth asked me to drop it. I did in fear that I would lose my temper and demand retribution for your honor.” _

_ “I see.” _ Then she would leave it alone as well. The last thing she wanted was Aharon coming between her time with Safiya. She feared there would be much groveling in her future as it was. She looped her arm through her father’s, leaning her head on his arm.  _ “Let us go home, Baba. I miss my tribe.” _

_ “And they have missed you.” _

  
  
  
  



End file.
